The taste of the wind is cold when I feel half-there
The sunset makes a sound as it blurs and falls down
Your voice is drowned out; I can’t hear it at all
Half the month passed, 3 minutes for every 1 day
When a woman is feeling rough, when a woman relies on a cat,
Her polished lower lip expands
Her face comes close like an enormous mother

Don’t know the name, but I learned that constellation long ago
A night of flowing clouds. Looks like sun tomorrow – No, a trap
The whirlpool in my heart takes it all in,
like it’s becoming kamaboko. This paradoxical way of speaking
is a shameful result; a shameful archive; a shameful assembly.
I serve it as a fancy cocktail
Enormous Mother will hold you as today you sleep again

Notes: Tarachine (or taratine) means mother, but has a connotation of breasts with it, sometimes regarding the woman who breastfeeds a child. The word 垂乳根 (tarachine) includes the character 乳 (chichi), which means breasts.